


Equilibrium

by griseldalafey



Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: Dark Castle AU, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-24
Updated: 2015-07-24
Packaged: 2018-04-11 01:45:38
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,110
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4416323
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/griseldalafey/pseuds/griseldalafey
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>For almost three decades the city of Avonlea has been visited weekly by a wicked sorcerer. The Dark One ruthlessly claims an offering every week and knows instantly whether or not the gift is of value. When he appears on the doorstep of Maurice French, the merchant tries to buy him off with gold. So instead the Dark One demands his daughter Belle as his price. Bravely, Belle agrees to go with him. But is the Dark One really as dark as people say? And who'll end up paying the price of magic? RCIJ gift for Kamdensl.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Equilibrium

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Kamdensl](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=Kamdensl).



> Author’s note - part 1:   
> This is my Rumbelle Secret Santa in July gift for Kamdensl. Her prompt was: Dark Castle when they almost…  I went AU with this story and I really hope you like it. I loved being your Santa!

Like every Friday morning for as long as Belle could remember a tense silence fell over the room the moment the morning paper was brought into the dining room she and her father usually took their breakfast in. Cogsworth, the butler handed her father the paper, his face carefully arranged in a mask that did not show any emotion.    
Putting down her fork, Belle watched anxiously as her father opened the paper and scanned the front page, his eyes straying to the small announcement at the bottom. The fact that there wasn’t a great headline was always a good sign, but Belle still waited with baited breath as her father read and didn’t dare to resume her breakfast until her father’s pinched expression eased into a relieved smile.

“A family on the other side of the city…” he declared. “I have never heard of them before.”

“Very fortunate, sir,” Cogsworth murmured, the relief palpable on his face as well.

And although she couldn’t deny that the knot of anxiety in the pit of her stomach had eased for now, Belle couldn’t help but think wryly that the term ‘fortunate’ was only a very relative one as it did certainly not apply to that poor family across the city.

* * *

 

“Belle! You will not believe what has happened!” her father cried out a fortnight later as he came bursting into the small office were she was working on the ledgers.

Belle looked up, her eyes filled worry. Although her father did not look very upset now, the announcement in the paper that morning had shocked the both of them and her father had rushed off immediately to inquire how great the damage was.

“What did the Dark One take?” Belle asked anxiously.   Although she had never been fond of Albert Spencer, a fellow merchant and their biggest rival in town, she did feel bad for him for being singled out by the Dark One.

“You will _not_ believe what has happened!” her father repeated, almost beside himself with excitement.   
 “When I went over there this morning I expected Spencer to be ruined and desolate as he is one of the richest men of Avonlea and everybody knows how well he loves his money. I was certain the Dark One had demanded every last penny he owned, but instead he told the most amazing tale…

The Dark One appeared on his doorstep around midnight yesterday, asking for an offering. But before Spencer could offer him money or jewels or anything valuable his six-year old daughter… what’s her name… descended from the stairs.”

“Ella…” Belle supplied. “He didn’t take her, did he?”  
 Fear gripped her heart. Although the Dark One had never actually taken such a young child before, there were rumors of things that had happened a long time ago, stories as old as the Curse itself.

The Dark One could have taken the child if he choose to do so.

“No, nothing like that,” her father was quick to reassure her.   
“She came downstairs, carrying her stuffed rabbit. According to Spencer, it was a ratty, thumbed thing that she’s been carrying around since she was born.  So the child looks the Dark One square in the eye and asks him what he wants.   
He replies he has come to collect an offering and the girl… Ella… looks at him and says:   
“You look rather lonely… you can have Bunny if you like…” and she hands him the stuffed animal. Spencer thought he was done for, expected the Dark One to curse his home into oblivion. Instead that monster smiles at his daughter and says:

“Thank you for your generosity, dearie,” and disappears.”

“Just like that?” Belle asked astonished.

“Just like that,” her father affirmed. “No money… no riches… just a threadbare toy was enough to satisfy the Dark One’s greed this time.”

“Amazing…” Belle muttered quietly.

* * *

 

After had father had left, Belle still pondered on the surprising turn of events, gazing out of the window as she did so.  

Around this time of the day, many inhabitants of Avonlea were up and about, walking their pets. She watched the reverend Archie Hopper wit his spotted dog Pongo, Eric Crab, a swimming instructor with his great, hairy mutt named Max and Mrs. Darling with her Cocker Spaniel Lady.

It was very obvious now that Mrs. Darling was expecting and Belle hoped for her sake that the Dark One wouldn’t come to her door for many, many years to come.  It was so much harder to remain devoted to a dog when there was a baby as well.

The city of Avonlea was a beautiful, prosperous place. The houses were large and beautifully decorated, the air was clean and the streets and public buildings well-maintained.  Avonlea was a wonderful place to live, if one didn’t take into account the presence of the Dark One.   
Belle had heard the stories all her life, although she had never encountered the Dark One herself. No one knew where he lived, but once a week he would travel to their city and knock at someone’s door, demanding an offering.   
The offering had to be meaningful and of value to the person who gave it and the Dark One had the power to establish if the gift had truly costed the donor.  If the Dark One was satisfied, he would take the offering and leave, but if he felt that it fell short he would put a curse on the household and take something valuable of his own choice.   
The Dark One possessed a strength that was impossible to withstand, there was a power radiating off him that was so strong that no one dared to cross him in any way.

But Avonlea was a large city and the Dark One only came once a week. There was every chance that he would never appear on your doorstep at all and life in Avonlea was comfortable and profitable.   
 It was like building a house on fertile land near a volcano or a river that was prone to overflow.

No one wanted to believe that anything would actually happen to them.

* * *

 

When the doorbell rang a quarter to midnight, Belle was just on the stairs, on her way up to her room, a half finished novel in her hand.  With her mind still wrapped up in the story, she barely paid attention to the late caller, until she heard Cogsworth's sharp intake of breath.    
Seconds later, her father stepped into the hallway, his face almost as white as his hair.

“Dark One…” he breathed, his voice almost gone and Belle stopped dead in her tracks, slowly turning around to gaze at the creature standing at the threshold.

He was wearing a long, hooded cloak of brown wool and leaning heavily on a walking stick. The hood covered most of his face, but when the light of the hallway spilled across his slight form, Belle could make out the greenish, scaly skin of his hands.

“A small offering if you please, dearie!” the Dark One spoke in an eerie, cheerful tone of voice that was completely at odds with the threat of the situation.

Paralyzed Belle watched how beads of sweat appeared on her father’s forehead. They had never been visited by the Dark One before and as the master of the house, she knew her father was responsible for offering the sorcerer something that would meet his approval.   
It had to be something Maurice French valued more above any other of his possessions and her heart constricted when she realized what this was about to cost her beloved father.

“Y-yes… of course… the offering…” her father stammered nervously. “Give me a moment to fetch it for you…”

He disappeared behind the door of his workroom and Belle bit her lip to stop the tears from falling from her eyes.  Her father would be devastated after this.

The Dark One paid her no attention as he waited patiently at the door, humming an odd, rather off-putting tune, smirking slightly.  The hood had fallen back to reveal a face that was as greenish as the hand and had a slightly sparkly tinge to it.  Belle couldn’t help but stare at him in wonder.

Who _was_ this person?

Moments later her father returned and Belle frowned when she saw that he was carrying a large bag in his hands.  

“There you go,” the merchant said, attempting to hand the bag over. “These are my company’s earnings of the last sixth months. I’m certain you’ll find them to your liking.”

There was a hint of smugness in her father’s countenance, and Belle’s heart dropped when she realized what he was doing.

Still holding out the bag, Maurice French eyed his opponent, a flicker of unease passing over his face.    
“Please take it… it’s a vast sum of money, I can assure you.”

“You _fool!_ ” the Dark One answered. The tone of his voice was still high-pinched and maniacal, but there was a harsh note of anger there as well and Belle felt her insides constrict in fear.

“You think you can attempt to buy me off?” The Dark One demanded, stepping inside and suddenly the spacious hallway was filled with he intimidating presence of his powerful aura.   
“You foolishly think some money will be enough to appease the curse?”

“I-I will fetch you something else…” her father whimpered, clutching the bag of gold to his chest with trembling hands. “More money… jewels… my toolbox… you can have my toolbox…”

The toolbox was what he should have offered the Dark One in the first place, Belle knew. Apart from her, her father loved nothing more than to tinker with his inventions in his workroom. His toolbox that contained his collection of rare and special devices was his pride and joy.   
Perhaps it wasn’t necessarily worth more than the bag of money he had offered the Dark One, but he did value it a great deal more.

But the Dark One had seen through his attempted scheme and now he would pay for it.

_“May your house from this day forward be deprived of the luck that has sustained it. May it wither and fall, crumble to dust like the empty promise of a man who breaks his word!”_ The Dark One chanted the words in an indifferent, detached way, his voice sounding deeper than before.    
 _“You have failed to pay, but pay you will and I will set the price!”_

The Dark One’s eyes swept across the room, his eyes landing on Belle and for a split second Belle could see a look of absolute horror cross over his face before he gave a shrill giggle and pointed in her direction.  
“My price is _her_!’

“NO!” Maurice launched himself forward, but was held back by a burst of magic, suddenly immobilizing him.   “You will not take my daughter, you monster! I will get you anything you want, I’ll give you anything, but you will not take her!”

“Don’t act more of a fool than you already have,” the Dark One snarled at him.   
“She is the price now, the curse demands it and you have no one but yourself to blame for it.”

“But she is innocent!” her father protested, tears beginning to leak from his eyes.

“She is unmarried and lives in your house and you value her more above anything else. The curse has chosen her,” the Dark One replied coolly, but Belle noticed the way his hand clasped tightly around his staff.

“Please… there must be some way, I beg of you…” her father pleaded, but the Dark One shook his head.

“There is nothing either of us can do. The price is set, she will have to come with me or all of Avonlea will have to face the consequences.”

During their exchange, Belle had slowly descended the stairs, her eyes fixed on the sorcerer, a small frown between her eyes.  

Something didn’t add up. All her life she had heard horrifying tales of an evil sorcerer named the Dark One. A ruthless, cruel monster who took away what people loved most, simply out of greed and because he had the power to do so.

The creature standing in front of her was frightening to be sure, but to her it seemed that he wasn’t demanding offerings out of malice or for his own personal gain. He spoke of the curse as if it were a higher law they all must abide to.   
He looked powerful and intimidating, yes… but also endlessly strained and tired.

She had no idea what the next hours, the next minutes even would bring, but she found herself speaking before she had even thought it true. “I will come with you.”

She surprised herself by how calm she was sounding.

“Belle, _no!_ ” her father shouted. “You cannot go with this… this beast! He will murder you for sure!”

“I assume the girl takes after her mother?” the Dark One drawled. “Being sensible and all that?”

“What do you mean the city of Avonlea will face the consequences if I don’t come with you?” Belle asked, addressing him directly.

Golden eyes settled on her face and he appeared to give her question some serious thought. Eventually he answered: “The offerings are of great significance to the well-being of the town. When the offerings are not duly paid, the debt of magic will destroy Avonlea.”

“I’ll come with you,” Belle repeated while her father simultaneously said: “I will not allow it!”

“Father, no one decides my fate but me,” Belle insisted, taking another step closer to the Dark One. “I don’t know what’s going to happen, but I won’t let the town get destroyed… not if I can help it.”

Her father reached for her, but the Dark One lifted his hand and Maurice found himself to be once again paralyzed by magic.

“Hurry up now!” he snapped at Belle. “The coach is waiting outside and I want to return before dawn breaks!”  

He closed his hand around her wrist and headed for the door and it was only then that Belle noticed how much he was leaning on the walking stick, his right leg barely able to support his weight.   
Despite it he walked with a swift pace and Belle had barely time to throw one last look at her father before she was dragged into the night and towards the black carriage waiting for her.

* * *

 

The carriage was pulled by a back horse, but there was no driver. The Dark One simply muttered an inaudible command before pushing her inside.  Once he had closed the door behind them, the carriage took off with such a dazzling speed that Belle felt her stomach turn.

“Where are we going?” Belle inquired feebly, bracing herself against her seat to stop herself from being flung across the carriage.

But the man sitting across from her made no reply and continued to look stoically outside the window.

“Please… can you at least tell me what is going to happen?” Belle tried again, but he gave no indication of having even heard her. After a few more attempts, she gave up, feeling both scared and indignant by his aloofness.

Following his example, she kept staring out of the window stubbornly as well, soon noticing that they were leaving the city of Avonlea and had entered the surrounding forests. They drove all through the night, crossing the East Mountain and another darker, more impassable wood.    
At long last the carriage halted and when the Dark One escorted her out, Belle came found herself in front of a fortress erected from dark bricks, looking ominous in the soft light of dawn.

“Welcome to the Dark Castle, dearie!” the sorcerer next to her spoke mockingly with a twirl of his hand.

“Is this where you live?” Belle asked, trying to push down the feeling of dread that settled in the pit of her stomach at the sight of the looming building.

“It is,” the Dark One replied. “And it will be your home for the next month. If you would be so kind as to follow me…”

 The iron grip closing around her wrist belied his request and Belle had little choice but to trot after him. He led her through the large entrance hall, dressed in red and gold tapestries and through a dining hall that consisted of a large, dark oak table, a cabinet and a tall spinning wheel. Then they descended several spiral staircases, until Belle felt that they must be several feet below the ground.   
Eventually he opened a heavy, iron door and pushed her into a dimly illuminated, small room.

“Make yourself comfortable, dearie,” he said in a sing-song voice before locking the door firmly behind her.

Belle waited until the sound of his retreating footsteps had subsided before she sunk down on the narrow cot attached to the wall.  There she buried her face in her hands and cried for a good long time before she found herself calmed down enough to take in her surroundings.

Two things she noticed straight away. Despite the fact that she must be inside some kind of dungeon underneath the castle, instead of being cold and damp, the room was warm and when she touched her hand to the grey-stoned wall it was glowing faintly underneath her palm.

The other thing she became aware of was the faint sound of barking. Apparently the Dark One was a great dog-lover… unless… Connecting the dots inside her head, Belle gasped as the horrible realization hit her: this was were all of Avonlea’s missing dogs, token as offerings went to.

Considering the fact that the Dark One demanded offerings that had value, many people of Avonlea had taken in a dog in the hopes of becoming attached to the animal.  When the Dark One arrived at the door, they could offer their familiar to appease the sorcerer and limit the damage at the same time.

The Dark One had told her she would stay here for a month and apparently he kept the dogs for the same amount of time. What could he possibly want with either of them?

* * *

 

 After a fitful couple of hours of sleep on the uncomfortable cot, Belle woke around noon feeling stiff and out of place.  Settling herself on the cot, her back against the wall she waited for things to come. After what felt like hours the door to the dungeon opened to reveal the Dark One, carrying a tray with a bowl of stew, some bread and a jar of water awkwardly in one hand while leaning heavily on his cane.

“This should sustain you until tomorrow morning,” was all he said as he put the tray down on the cot.

“Will you keep me in here for an entire month?” Belle asked, trying to catch his gaze. “What purpose could that possibly serve?”

He turned his back on her, heading towards the door but Belle jumped off the cot and rushed after him, determined to get some answers out of him.

“You’re not being fair! Will you at least give me some answers?”

He froze and then swirled around, his face contorted with anger.

“You will stay here until your time has come to be sacrificed. There is nothing fair or just about that!” he spat at her.   
“You were _so_ eager to save your city, well, you will accomplish just that. Until another week has passed and the curse demands a new offering…

Why couldn’t your father have taken a damn dog?”

Belle recoiled at his harsh words, but something of his rant stuck with her.

“What curse? And why does it keep demanding new offers? Is that why you come to Avonlea every week?”

“What use do you have for all these questions?” he snapped back. “It will do you no good. Nothing will change your fate now!”

He turned around once more and stalked out of the dungeon, slamming the door behind him.

Shaking in her boots, Belle watched him leave but once he was gone she lifted her chin defiantly.

_“No one decides my fate but me!_ ”

* * *

 

For the next two days he brought her food and water, shoving the tray inside without barely setting foot inside the dungeon, ignoring her presence completely.   
With every hour that passed, Belle began to feel more like she was ready to crawl out of her skin with boredom.  Her single diversion was the book she’d held in her hands on the evening the Dark One had appeared at her home, but the tale that had gripped her so much on that evening now paled in comparison to what had befallen to her.

Still, having a book to read was her greatest comfort, because the long hours between her meals stretched out like and endless sea of time, until she felt that she would welcome the end of the month with gratitude.

On the third morning she was alerted by the Dark One’s arrival by the sound of rattling cutlery outside the door and she sat up straighter on her cot, determined to try and get him to talk to her once more.

The door opened and he took a tentative step inside, balancing the tray on one hand. As he bend down to place the tray on the floor, the jar of water tilted, throwing him off balance.  With an almighty bang the tray and all its contents crashed to the ground as the Dark One himself slipped and landed on the floor, his face twisted in agony.

“Oh!” Belle exclaimed, rushing over to his side. She reached out to grab his arm, but he recoiled from her as if she had tried to burn him.

“Stay away from me!” he snarled at her, attempting to pull himself up with the aid of his walking stick.  But he barely managed to get his feet under him before his right leg collapsed underneath him and he fell to the ground once more, groaning in pain.

“Are you all right?” Belle asked anxiously, kneeling down beside him once more.

“Splendidly!” he spat at her, his voice dripping with sarcasm as he gripped his right ankle, cursing through gritted teeth.

“Careful now,” Belle said softly, moving some broken pieces of glass and porcelain away. “You’ll only injure yourself further.”

This time when she placed her hand on his arm, he gave a resigned sigh, allowing her to help him up and leaning heavily on her as she guided him over to the cot.   
“It think you ankle may be twisted or maybe even broken,” she told him. “You really ought to get out of those boots.”

“I don’t think… there’s really no reason…” he started to protest as she began to unlace the knee-length leather boots. Ignoring his misgivings, Belle tried to loosen to boot by pulling at the laces until he pulled his leg back with a snarl.

“Careful, that hurts!”

“Well, if you’ll hold it still, it won’t!” she snapped back, giving the laces another tug before she tried to slide the boot of his leg. A silk sock came off along with the boot and once she was looking at his bare foot, Belle gasped in shock.

 The ankle of his left foot was a mess of scars and discolored skin. The bone of the ankle was disjointed and from the odd shapes and angles she guessed it had been very badly broken once and never healed properly. Apart from the scarring and the ruined bone, the ankle was now swollen and blueish as well as a result of his stumble.

“It looks like a sprained ankle to me,” she told him quietly. “You shouldn’t walk on it for a couple of days at least.”

“Impossible!” he replied curtly. “I need to feed the dogs and I have to return to Avonlea in four days from today.

“Well, before anything else, you ankle needs a cold compress before the swelling gets worse,” Belle argued. “You won’t be able to stand on it and ignoring it is only going to aggravate the injury further.”

“I’ll be fine!” he growled back stubbornly, attempting to raise himself from the cot. But he barely made it into an upright position before he faltered with a cry of pain and sank down again.

“Let me try to help you get upstairs,” Belle pleaded, trying to persuade him with a soft voice. “We’ll get you comfortable and find something cold for you ankle and then we’ll see what can be done.”

The Dark One sighed deeply before nodding resignedly. “Very well then. Let’s get upstairs first.”

* * *

 

Hauling him up the spiral staircases to the dining room took quite some effort, even though he was by no means a heavy man.  By the time she had him settled into a chair and found him a footstool to rest his injured foot on, beads of sweat were glistering on his forehead and even the most powerful sorcerer in all the realms had to admit that resting was his only option now.

In the days that followed, Belle took over his chores in the Dark Castle, relishing the fact that she was out of her dungeon.  She as allowed to roam the main floor of the Dark Castle freely, although her host had told her in no uncertain terms that she was not to venture downstairs or upstairs by herself.

Taking care of the dogs that were kept in one of the many, many rooms on the main floor filled most of her day. They had to be fed three times a day and walked in the garden. She also mucked out their kennels daily and brushed out their coat.    
After two days the Dark One was able to move around gingerly with the aid of his walking stick, but it would take another week at least before he’d be able to perform his duties again.  

Belle was burning with curiosity to find out why he was keeping these dogs - did they come from Avonlea? Had he seized them? But to what purpose? - and what had happened to his injured ankle.   
But not wanting to stir his anger and risk the possibility of being thrown back into the dungeon made her keep silent.

Until the morning, precisely a week after her arrival at the Dark Castle, when he asked her to bring the smallest dog, a hairy, affectionate ball of fluff named Piper, up to the dining room.

Trepidation filled her heart. “What are you going to do with her?” she asked hoarsely. “Is she to be sacrificed?”

He paled underneath his greenish scales, his eyes remorseful, but his jaw set in a firm line.

“Get the dog!” he ordered her between clenched teeth.

“No!” she shot back vehemently. “This isn’t right! That poor thing hasn’t done anything to deserve this!”

“Get the dog, NOW!” he bellowed, rounding up on her. “I seem to remember that I’ve already told you that none of this is fair, dearie! But it can’t be helped.  Fetch me that dog, or you’ll find yourself back in your dungeon until your own time has come!”

Too angry to be frightened by his outburst, Belle took a step forward and opened her mouth to protest some more, but suddenly a wave of magic rolled off him, making her feel as if she’d run headfirst into a brick wall with considerable speed.

Yelping in shock and in pain, she staggered back, staring at him disbelievingly.

The Dark One faltered, his shoulders slumping as he clutched his walking stick.

“Bring me the dog, Belle,” he requested once more, the tone of his voice endlessly tired and sad. “It has to be done.”

With tears brimming her eyes and feeling as if her legs were made of lead, Belle walked slowly to the room were the dogs were kept and opened Piper’s kennel. Picking her up, she cradled her close in her arms, her insides twisting as the little dog licked her face enthusiastically, expecting a walk outside.

“I’m sorry, sweetheart,” she said softly, a tear making it’s way down her cheek. “I’m _so_ sorry…”

She could take the little dog and run. Leave the Dark Castle and hide far away. Hoping and praying that the Dark One wouldn’t find her.

Looking over her shoulder for the rest of her life, endangering every life that crossed her path.

Still cuddling the dog she made her way back to the dining hall, her throat raw and aching with tears.

When she entered the large room, the Dark One was standing at the table, preparing something on a small plate.

“Put the dog on the table,” he instructed her curtly, refusing to look at her.

With a dry sob Belle kissed the white dog’s soft fur, tears rolling down freely now.

“Leave!” The Dark One’s command was harsh and cold.

“Everyone was right about you. You are a beast!” she hissed at him, placing Piper on the table.

He tensed at her words, but still refused to look at her and Belle turned around, unable to stomach what was about to happen or spend a moment longer in this monster’s presence.

She hurried to the entrance of the dining hall, intending to slam the door shut for good measure, but just as she stepped into the hallway, his soft voice stopped her in her tracks.

“Come ’ere little girl, I have a treat for you.”

His tone was warm and affectionate and Piper barked happily.

“Oh, you like that, don’t you?”

There was an odd hoarseness to his voice and Belle peaked around the door, her eyes widening at the sight in front of her.  The Dark One was feeding the dog the food he’d prepared earlier on the plate, Piper digging in excitedly, obviously pleased with the meal.   
Once the plate was empty, he lifted the dog in his arms and stroked its small head.

 “You don’t have to worry…” Belle heard him say. “You’re going to have a nice, long sleep and when you wake up you’ll be somewhere beautiful. A place with lots of green grass to run through, as many treats as you like and bones to dig up. You won’t suffer a bit… I promise you that…”

Belle watched as the dog gradually became more and more drowsy until it went out like a light, dropping it’s furry head against the Dark One’s shoulder.

 And long after Piper had gone to sleep, the Dark One kept petting her and whispering sweet nothingness against her white furr, until he finally straightened up and began to carry the dog towards the spiral staircase, leaning heavily on his walking stick with each difficult step that he took.

Belle watched him descend the staircase until he was out of sight, her heart pounding in her chest.

* * *

 

He was gone for about fifteen minutes and when he returned his arms were empty and he walked even slower, his face set in deep, grave lines. It seemed to take him forever before he reached the chair next to his spinning wheel that he favored and he sank down on it heavily, burying his face in his hands.

Tentatively, Belle stepped back into the dining room, her heels clicking softly on the marble floor as she approached him.  

His entire body froze when he became aware of her presence, his shoulders tensing into a harsh line.   
“Please go away,” he said in a strained voice. “I know what you are going to say and I can’t hear it right now.”

“You were right…” Belle said slowly, stopping once she was directly in front of him. “It isn’t fair… not one bit… You shouldn’t have to suffer like this every week.”

His head snapped up, startled, golden-brown eyes meeting hers.

“What makes you do this?” Belle asked carefully, taking the tree-legged stool of his spinning wheel and sitting down across from him. “You speak of a curse… does the curse forces you to do this?”

The Dark One hesitated, looking indecisive for a moment before sighing deeply, a hint of a sad smile appearing around his lips.  “Very well then.., you’re never going to stop pestering me for questions if I don’t tell you, are you?”

“I just want to know,” Belle answered. “If I’m never leaving this castle again… if my fate is the same as Piper’s… I want to _know_.”

His face twisted into a grimace of pain before he took another deep breath and nodded.

“There is a curse… stemming from a debt of magic created a very long time ago. Right after Avonlea was founded, the noblemen of the city sought out a powerful sorcerer in an attempt to secure Avonlea’s prosperity.

They made a deal… Avonlea would flourish and become rich, a paradise to live in… every venture, every enterprise becoming a success… But of course, magic always has a price and one of the founders, a man named Midas was charged with collecting the fee and became the first Dark One.  Everything he touched became gold, but in return he had to present the fire of Equilibrium an offering every week.

The offering had to be collected from one of the residents of Avonlea and thrown into the fire.  The Dark One has the ability to see if an offering is truly costing the presenter and has a great power to persuade everyone to do his biding.

That is the curse of Avonlea.”

After his tale the Dark One fell into a heavy silence and Belle’s mind reeled with what he had told her.  Growing up she had heard whispers of the curse and she had tried to read anything about it she could get her hands on. But the stories were vague, contradictory and clouded with myths and fables.

But the Dark One’s story was simple and straight-forward, sustained by facts and Belle found herself believing him instantly.  

“The fire of Equilibrium is very near, isn’t it?” she asked eventually. “Is it somewhere inside the castle?”

The Dark One gave her an amused smile. “What makes you say that?”

“The dungeons aren’t cold,” Belle answered simply.

He gaped at her for a moment, clearly impressed and then nodded, the smile slipping from his face. “The fire burns at the heart of the castle. That’s why I forbade you to leave the main floor. The fire is always hungry… always demanding more offerings…”

“How did you become the Dark One?” Belle asked then. “You’re not one of the founders… are you related to Midas?”

The man across from her shook his head, his eyes filled with pain and sorrow. “Nothing like that… I became the Dark One because I killed my predecessor.”

“Why would you do that?” Belle asked bewildered. “Did you try to stop him taking an offering from you?”

“In a manner of speaking…” the sorcerer replied.

“Many, many years ago I was nothing. I lived in the outskirts of Avonlea, scorned by my neighbors because of the antics of my father. When I became of age I married a woman by the name of Milah.  Then the Ogre wars arose and every man in Avonlea was drafted to fight. With our luck every army was eager to have us and there was no escaping the battlefield.

I was afraid of the war… I didn’t believe that I would benefit from Avonlea’s lucky charm, because until then my life hadn’t been successful or prosperous in any way… But when I was at camp I met a seer who told me that Milah was with child… that I was to become father to a boy.

I couldn’t bear the thought of dying and leaving my son behind fatherless and in a desperate attempt to return to my family I deliberately destroyed my ankle so that I could return home and be with my family.

 By the time I made it back to Avonlea, word of my cowardice had already reached the city. Nobody spoke a civil word to me and I came home to Milah’s scorn and disgust. She loathed me… despised me… but I couldn’t care less because by then my son was born…

His name was Bealfire and he was my light and joy… I’d cripple myself a hundred times over, just to spend one more day with him…

A month after my return from the war, Milah left me. Eventually I found employment with a man named Hordor. He was a despicable man… cruel and greedy, but I worked as hard as I could to provide for my son, spinning yarn until deep into the night to earn us some extra money. We lived in a small house on Hordor’s estate and although it was a hard life, I was happy with my boy.

Every week the Dark One would come to Avonlea to claim an offering, but I paid him little mind. My predecessor only called on rich people and I was poorer than dirt. The previous Dark One also employed a system, so his visits weren’t as wholly unsuspected as mine are.

One evening Hordor summoned me and gave a bag of gold. He told me he expected the Dark One to call on him that night and that he planned to outsmart him. The gold in the bag was certainly a hefty sum, but by no means an offering that dearly cost him. Yet he was unwilling to pay more. So he would make sure to be absent that evening and leave the gold with me. Coming from me the gold would be tremendous offering, something the Dark One would certainly accept, or so Hordor said.

 He promised me that if I cooperated he would see to it that Bealfire could attend school… it seemed like such an easy bargain, such a simple deal…”

The Dark One paused for a second, his mouth twisting in self-hatred.   
“And I was desperate enough to make that deal so that my son could have a better life.

That night I send Bae to bed straight after dinner and told him that he wasn’t allowed to come out no matter what happened and I waited for the Dark One to show up.

He came around midnight, asking for an offering and I all but threw the bag of gold at him, eager to be rid of him as soon as possible.

I was a fool… a stupid, mindless _fool_ … and I knew it as soon as I looked at the Dark One’s face.

He wasn’t to be fooled by such a simple scheme. I couldn’t care less about Hordor’s gold and he knew instantly. He dropped the bag to the ground and pointed at the bed were Bae was sleeping…”

Tears were slipping into his voice and Belle felt her own eyes burn as she watched his grief-stricken face. Hoarse and quietly the Dark One continued.

“I wanted to protest… scream… fight… anything… but the Dark One gave me one look and I was completely immobilized.  Baelfire woke up and the Dark One beckoned him… Bae followed him blindly, like he was in a kind of trance… by the time I finally came to myself and ran out of the house they were both gone without leaving a trace.

I searched for a month, asked everyone I could think off and eventually crossed the forest and went over the mountain.  When I reached the Dark Castle I believed for a moment that I had managed it… that I would see my son again… but I’d come too late… Baelfire was gone, sacrificed to the flames.

The Dark One, Zoso was his name, told me that if I killed him the curse would be lifted and my son would return to me…

And fool that I was, I fell for it again...

I killed the Dark One with the small dagger I’d taken with me when I set off to find Bae, only to find myself burdened with the curse now.

Zoso had tricked me because he couldn’t bear it any longer.

For the past twenty-eight years I have traveled to Avonlea every week to claim an offering. I see the hatred and fear on the faces of the people when I steal from them what they love most. The curse forces me to do it, forces me to grab the beloved pets, family heirlooms and occasionally a person.

My only constellation is my spinning. Because of the curse I can now spin straw into gold…

I’ve never been richer in my life, but it doesn’t matter one bit anymore.

The curse has yet to force me to take a child… at least I’ve been spared that. Until you that is….”

“You didn’t want to take me…” Belle murmured softly. “I could see it in your face…”

Remorseful eyes, filled with hurt looked back at her.  
“No, I didn’t. But in the end that doesn’t make any difference. But you won’t have to suffer, Belle…I’ll make sure of that.”

Reaching out she covered his hand with her own, feeling how his body shuddered under this simple contact and she wondered how long it had been since anyone had last touched him.

“What was your name before you became the Dark One?”

She heard his breath hitch in his throat, the silence dragging on for long seconds.

“Rumplestiltskin.”

* * *

 

That night she couldn’t sleep, her mind reeling from everything he had told her. Her soul hurt for him and the pain he’d gone through most of his life. The downtrodden man who had finally found happiness with his son, only to have it destroyed because of a curse.   
A man who would still do anything, sacrifice anything to save his son, even taking on the ultimate manifestation of the curse by becoming the Dark One.

And then there was the curse itself, this caricature of a contract: prosperity in exchange for merciless offerings.  

The welfare of Avonlea had always puzzled her to some extent. Among Ogre wars and amidst a coup d’etat in a neighboring kingdom where the second wife of a deceased king had suddenly grabbed power and installed a reign of terror, Avonlea had remained unremittingly wealthy and prosperous.    
To Belle there had always been an artificial quality to it and now she understood.

Decades and decades of economical success had made the people of Avonlea greedy and insatiable. There was never enough profit, there was never enough money being made.  There were always people who did better and were more successful.  

The curse had done just that: it had given them a cursed existence. And at the end of the week someone always had to pay the price.

There had to be something that could be done, something to stop this endless cycle.

And just as the sun began to rise, signaling a new morning, an idea began to form in Belle’s head.

* * *

 

“So the fire of Equilibrium demands an offer every week?” Belle asked Rumplestiltskin as she was filling the bowls of the dogs that remained with food while he tagged behind her, still not able to walk properly.    
The day before he had grossly overstretched his ankle by carrying the dog down to the dungeons and now he was barely able to stand.

Upon his nod, Belle continued her inquiries. “What happens if the fire doesn’t receive an offering?”

"Then the fire itself will claim all of Avonlea as compensation,” he answered promptly. “The laws of magic are very clear about that. Once the deal is broken, the fire is free to devour everything it desires.

Belle scratched one of the dogs, a hairy, scruffy mutt behind his ears before continuing. “All these offerings… the gold, the possessions, the animals… is there an offering that would satisfy the fire for a longer time, or perhaps forever?”

Behind her, Rumplestiltskin stopped his movements and when she turned around he was looking at her with a peculiar expression on his face, half fear and half admiration.

“There is,” he answered quietly. “But it won’t do you any good. If a person jumped willingly into the fire, sacrificing himself by his own free choice, the fire would burn for a thousand years and then a thousand for each of those years.”

“And it would require no more offerings?” Belle asked, her voice barely louder then his.

As he shook his head, Belle straightened her back, ignoring the coil of fear in the pit of her stomach.  

“Very well then… I’ll go willingly into the fire, by my own choice, to stop this curse.”

He gave her the saddest, most dejected smile in the world, his eyes soft and mournful as he replied: “But that’s just it. You won’t come to the fire out of your own free will, because I have already brought you here. The fire will never recognize you as a sacrifice, only as an offering.”

This was exactly what Belle had expected him to say and she took a step closer towards him, desperate to convince him.

“That’s why you have to let me go! Release me, let me leave the castle and I’ll return in the evening.”

He gaped at her, his eyes bulging wide, a muscle in his jaw working furiously. He stared at her like he couldn’t believe what she was saying for long minutes and then suddenly, brusquely, he stepped aside.

“Go!” He said curtly, gesturing with his hand.

“Just like that?” she breathed, taking a tentative step forwards. "I’ll be back tonight, I promise!”

“Just _go_!” he snarled.

Belle took a step and then another, her pace quickening until she was running through the corridors towards the heavy oak doors.

The door sprung open as she reached them and she ran outside into the sun.

* * *

 

She didn’t wander far from the Dark Castle. After half an hour of walking through the forest she came upon an open field with a well in the middle.  After drinking some of the crystal clear water, she sat with her back agains the stone wall and tilted her head to the sun, enjoying its warmth and light with her eyes closed.   
Her mind was made up and squashed down every feeling of doubt or fear with grim determination.

There were worst ways to die, really. Just a split second and then it would all be over. Rumplestiltskin would be free from the curse that had weighted him down for almost three decades and Avonlea would get the opportunity to flourish on its own steam.   
Her father would be devastated, but he could take comfort in the knowledge that her death hadn’t been in vain.

Only she’d never get to finish another book. She would never again dance at the summer solstice. She would never be a bride or a mother. She would never meet the man who was supposed to become the love of her life.   
She would never even get to experience her first kiss.

In the grand scheme of things, it didn’t really matter, but Belle took that afternoon the mourn the things that would never be.  

She roamed the field, picking wild berries, enjoying their fresh taste, drank some more of the clear water and didn’t cry until the sun set and dusk set in, knowing she would never see another day again. The she washed her face and hands, determined to meet her end with her head held high and returned to the Dark Castle.

* * *

 

Strangely enough, the fortress looked even darker and more forbidding than the first time she’d laid eyes on it. Walking past the great doors that led to the entrance hall, she walked around the castle to a small that lead directly to the stairwell.

She had debated whether or not she should seek out Rumplestiltskin first all afternoon, but eventually decided against it. This was something she had to do alone and his presence would only make it a hundred times more difficult.

Descending the spiral stairways, she soon found herself back in the clammy, dim dungeons. Rumplestiltskin had forbidden her to go to the center of the castle, so that was were she was heading now.  

The closer she approached the heart of the castle, the warmer it became, until drops of sweat started to form on her forehead, the temperature becoming sweltering. At long last she came into a long corridor and at the of it she could detect a faint, shimmering, red and yellow light. Swallowing with difficulty and taking a deep breath, Belle forced herself to put one foot in front of the other. She was almost there.   
She only needed to be brave for a little while longer.

The walk through the corridor was both the longest and the shortest of her life and by the time she reached the end the heat had become almost intolerable.

The corridor led into a large cavern with a deep pit in the middle. And inside that pit roared the brightest, hottest, fiercest fire Belle had ever come across. Flames were rising and licking up, almost like greedy hands, ready to reach out and take to destroy. The fire was hissing, sizzling and crackling, showers of sparks erupting from within. In the very center of the fire there was a white, bright light, so sharp Belle couldn’t look directly in it.   
The fire seemed to be alive, a growling, angry, hissing monster, ready to devour. Dark clouds of smoke and sulphur hung above the fire, making breathing almost impossible.

Taking a few careful steps closer to the edge of the rock she was standing on, Belle felt how the heat almost constructed a wall between her and the fire. Her eyes tearing because of the smoke and the heat, she fought every instinct inside of her that urged her to turn around and run.

Just a few more steps… she would most likely already be dead before her body even submerged into the flames.

When she reached the edge of the rock the heat was so unbearable that Belle felt sure her skin was only seconds away from melting. Up close, the fire was even more terrifying and she started to shake, tears of despair and terror beginning to roll down over her cheeks and evaporating instantly, leaving salty tracks on her face.

Spreading her arms wide, Belle closed her eyes and prepared herself to jump, taking a last, shuddering breath.

It would all be over very soon now…

_“NO!!”_

An anguished scream cried over the roaring fire and Belle felt herself being pulled backwards, an iron grip closing around her wrist, yanking her a few steps back and swirling her around.   
In front of her, panting and disheveled, his face ablaze with rage, stood Rumplestiltskin.

“What the hell are you doing here?” he demanded, his face twisted into an angry grimace.

“I said I’d be back!” Belle answered, yelling as to be heard over the fire. “You thought I was going to break my word?”

“I expected to never see you again!” he growled back. “I expected you to flee and run… you weren’t supposed to come back! Why did you do that….? Why did you return? You were supposed to _live_!”

His face crumbled in distress, tears leaking out of the corners of his eyes.

“I came back because it has to end here,” she sobbed. “Hasn’t it been enough? All those lives… all that terror, all those animals that have been sacrificed. What if the curse demands another child, just like it did with Baelfire? It has to end!”

He grew very still at her words, an odd sort of resignation washing over him.

“It does,” he agreed, his voice suddenly very calm.

And before Belle could respond, before she could even move he had brushed past her, moving quicker with his bad leg than she had ever held possible. A few feet before he reached the end of the rock he dropped his cane, stumbling the last steps.   
For a moment he stood frozen, hovering near the edge and then he toppled forwards, disappearing from sight.

“RUMPLESTILTSKIN!”

A terror, far greater than anything she’d felt when she’d been standing in front of the fire herself, overwhelmed her and Belle ran forward, a split second after him. The fire howled and raged, changing color from red and yellow to green, but Belle paid it no mind.

Without really thinking about it, without even being afraid, she jumped into the pit after him.

There was no heat, no pain, only a deafening noise, a rioting, screaming, shrieking cacophony of sounds in her ears that made her want to clasp her hands over her ears and curl up into a tight ball.   
For a moment everything went black, as if the noise drowned out every other sense and then it was all still and quiet.

For long minutes, Belle lay on a hard, hot surface, her head buried in her arms and her knees pulled up.   
Gradually she became aware that she was breathing and that aside from a slight ache in her bones from the way she’d been tossed on the floor, her body was otherwise intact.  

Sitting up gingerly, Belle looked around her, taking in her surroundings. She was lying at the bottom of the pit, all the traces of the fire gone, her dress and hands covered in ash. When she reached up to swipe her hair out of her face, she realized instantly that she was smearing the ashes all over her face.

A few yards away from her she spotted a still, lifeless form, lying sideways among the decay and her heart lurched in her throat.

_“Rumple!”_

Not even giving herself time to get up, she scrambled toward him, her knees and hands scraping on the bits and pieces of stone and coal that lay scattered over the ground. When she finally reached him and rolled him unto his back, his body was limp and slack, his face pale and waxy.

“Rumple?” She shook his shoulder gently and then not so gently.

“Rumplestiltskin! Wake up!”

For a long, terrifying moment she thought there was no point. Believed that the curse had taken his life, demanding it as a sacrifice that would destroy it. She was already clinging to the lapels of his waistcoat, her eyes moist and ready to break down in tears when he shuddered beneath her, his body convulsing with coughs and labored breathing.

“Rumplestiltskin!” She cried anyway, out of sheer happiness and gratitude that he was still alive.

“ _Belle?”_ He sat up and looked around him, his eyes filling with wonder and confusion at the scene in front of him.  “What happened?”

“You broke the curse,” she told him, beaming with happiness and pride.   
“The fire of Equilibrium is gone… it’s all over now.”

“But… I don’t understand…” He gazed at her dazedly. “If I broke the curse I must be dead… but I’m not, am I? Or are we both….? Belle, what did you _do_?”

Concern marred his features and he gripped her shoulders. “I remember dying, but then I wasn’t and… what happened?”

“I jumped after you,” Belle confessed, feeling her face heat up. “I didn’t think… I just did… but I don’t understand it either…”

He looked at her awe-struck until comprehension began to dawn on his face.   
“The deep magic…” he murmured eventually, reverently.

“What’s that?” Belle asked, her curiosity instantly piqued.

“It’s the oldest law of magic,” Rumplestiltskin explained. “Even from before the dawn of time. When an innocent person sacrifices himself for another, even death will turn backwards…

When I jumped into the fire, I ended the curse, so the curse had no power to kill any longer. When you jumped after me, you saved my life and the fire of Equilibrium could not harm you any longer.”

Belle covered his hand with hers, smiling softly to herself. She had set out to save the world, but in the end she had saved only him. And it was more than enough.

“There’s one thing I don’t understand though,” Rumplestiltskin said quietly and Belle looked up to find his eyes looking aguishly and worriedly into hers.

“If the curse broke, then why am I still a monster?”

She blinked at him, not catching on to his meaning, until he ran his hand over the glittery, scaly skin of his face and then she understood. Reaching out, she maneuvered her hand between his hand and his cheek, cradling his face into her palm.

“I don’t think you’re a monster,” she told him earnestly.

“My appearance begs to differ,” he answered self-derisively.

“Monsters wouldn’t flinch at the idea of taking a young woman away from her home,” she told him. “They wouldn’t feed her three times a day. They wouldn’t take care of the dogs and put them to sleep before offering them, providing them with as much comfort as they’re able to and making sure they wouldn’t suffer at all. And most of all… a monster wouldn’t have set me free… wouldn’t have given me the opportunity to flee.

You’re no more a monster than I am, Rumplestiltskin, no matter what you may look like.”

His face tinged at her words and Belle was oddly endeared by his capacity to blush.

“Well, perhaps it’s for the best then,” he replied eventually, not quite meeting her eyes, but instead clasping his free hand around hers and focusing his gaze on that.   
“Before I became this, I was a cowardly, unimpressive spinner after all, so all things considered this should count as an improvement.”

Resisting the urge to shake him, Belle opened her mouth to argue with him and then the penny dropped.   
The curse had feasted off his soul for almost three decades and it still had some control over him. He still wasn’t completely free.

Somehow knowing exactly what she had to do - what she wanted to do - Belle reached forward and moved the hand that had previously been cupping his cheek around his head, tugging him closer towards her, clinging tightly to his other hand. Vaguely she registered the shock in his wide eyes and his dilated pupils, before she closed her own eyes and carefully brushed her lips against his.

His lips were incredibly soft and warm and Belle promptly forgot all about curses and breaking them, merely focussing on the fact that she was kissing this captivating, complicated, fascinating man.   
Something sparked between them, a burst of light, a thrill of electricity that warmed her from within and somewhere in the back of her mind the logical part of her was working out that this was a manifestation of magic, but the greatest part of her couldn’t care less, because Rumplestiltskin was finally starting to respond to her kiss, his hands hesitantly settling on her waist to pull her closer, his teeth gently grazing her bottom lip.

When they finally broke apart, he gazed at her with a look of soft wonder and Belle fell instantly in love with the brown depths of his eyes. It was only then that she realized his skin had returned to a normal color and that his hair was no longer curly and wirily, but straight and soft. Unable to resist, she ran her hands through the silky strands, reveling in his sigh of pleasure. “

You’re not a monster,” she whispered, her heart almost bursting with happiness. “Not even close.”

Scrambling to her feet, she pulled him up with her, allowing him to lean on her. His arms immediately went around her waist and pulled her close and she snuggled against him, feeling as much sustained by his arms around her as she was supporting him.

“What happens now?” he asked quietly.

They could go anywhere they wanted, Belle realized, the mere thought making her head spin with possibilities.  They could return to Avonlea, or remain at the castle. The curse was gone and their lives were theirs, to do with as they saw fit.

“We should feed and walk the dogs,” she said eventually.

“We should,” he agreed as they began the difficult climb out of the pit, clinging tightly to each other. “I assume their owners would like them back at one point.”

Belle hummed her agreement, feeling how his body stiffened beside her. “Will you take the dogs with you when you return to Avonlea?”

Standing still, she wrapped her arms around his neck and pulled his head down once more. This time she kissed him with a great deal more of conviction and insistence.

“I’m not going anywhere without you.”

**Author's Note:**

> Author’s note - part II: I can’t take credit for the plot, I basically fanficced one of my favorite Dutch children’s book called ‘Koning van Kantoren’. (King of Kantoren) by Jan Terlouw. The story features a Pantaar, a magical creature that demands offerings from a town to keep them from being greedy.  I also used some Narnian magical jurispundence. 
> 
> And I’m also really, really sorry about killing the dog.


End file.
